She couldn't stop the feeling of fire rising

She couldn't stop the feeling of fire rising up her chest, up her neck as she walked past him. She could feel his melting stare and dared not to let his eyes trap her so she...

sprouted wings, twisted her scaly neck, and breathed fire directly into his face. That would teach him a lesson to look at her the *wrong* way with those tricksy eyes of his.

She decided; however, to change her ways and become more accepting of other people. On the next day, she went to a homeless shelter to help with the meal. She met

the most gorgeous hobo she'd ever slapped eyes on. She dropped her ladle, turned her back on her smug bourgeois life & moved into the cardboard box in the underpass with him. His

facial features were perfectly symmetrical & once you got over the constant rumble and choking exhaust, the underpass made for decent digs. The only problem with her hobo boytoy

was his awkward persistence to feed the already-fat pigeons at exactly four minutes past every hour-- no matter what activity the two of them were in the midst of. He never stopped

feeding them once he started, resulting in some extremely akward park-bench-sex-sessions. One day, the hobo actually noticed us on the bench, and said, "You know that bench is

section back and forth, grinning ear to ear, showing all three and a half of his teeth. Dental health had always been a massive issue for Cletus. His mother had always said "

Close your mouth, hide your pegs - they are like pussy pimples on a swan young whip!". Cletus smiled wider, almost beyond his ears this time. "Damn, Ma" he muttered.